


Of Monsters & Forgiveness

by lilies_in_a_vase



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Good Relationship, Billy Hargrove Lives, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Crying, F/M, Fear, Gen, Ghosts, Halloween, Haunting, Horror, Hurt Billy Hargrove, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, No Characters Die, POV Billy Hargrove, Panic Attacks, Protective Billy Hargrove, Protective Steve Harrington, Pumpkin Picking, Pumpkin carving, Pumpkins, there’s soft parts as well!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilies_in_a_vase/pseuds/lilies_in_a_vase
Summary: Billy’s known monsters his whole life. Still, none quite like these.It’s October 1985, and Billy Hargrove is being haunted.But Billy has faced death before, and he has won each goddamn time.
Relationships: Alexei/Murray Bauman, Billy Hargrove & Everyone, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington
Comments: 19
Kudos: 73





	Of Monsters & Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!   
> I... have absolutely no clue what to include here. Like, it’s horror, but I’ve never written horror, so I don’t know if it’s actually scary. And if you clicked on this story, then I’d assume you want to read horror?   
> But nobody dies!   
> I don’t want to spoil what happens, but I’ll make a list at the end notes, so skip to those if you’re unsure if you want to read this! 
> 
> Alright, hi everyone! Welcome to my first attempt at horror! Please let me know if it was actually scary! 
> 
> Don’t know Russian, but I’m using Murray not being a native speaker as an excuse. Still, if there’s an actual Russian speaker reading this, please do teach me the correct word for “oven”, because on the other hand, after about three months living with an actual Russian, Murray should probably know the correct word. 
> 
> Also, there are so many characters I’m constantly afraid I’ve forgotten one of them. If you notice anyone missing, please let me know! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own “Stranger Things”.
> 
> Happy reading! And Happy Halloween (tomorrow, anyway)!

Billy can’t remember his first encounter with a monster, although he knows what it must have been. It must have been seeing his dad hit his mum for the first time, and some years later having those same fists turned on him. That monster has stayed with him for all his life so far. 

His second monster encounter happened the first time Billy felt another kid’s skin break under his hands. That day, he discovered he had his own monster living inside him. He doesn’t imagine that monster will ever really leave, although perhaps he’ll be able to control it. It’s changed, after all, almost died, after his fourth encounter. 

But first came his third encounter. That monster took the form of leering faces, and soft grabbing hands, pulling at him and demanding his body in exchange for a few minutes of feeling loved. He hopes that monster has given him up now. 

His fourth encounter with a monster took place this summer, when he was dragged down the basement of an old abandoned building and felt a  _ physical _ monster enter his body and infect his mind. Max’s friend saved him from that one. 

And here is the fifth one. 

It’s Heather. 

Billy can see her behind him, in the mirror. He’d woken up, having to take a piss, hadn’t bothered turning the light on, and after washing his hands he’d looked up and seen her there.

She’s not right behind him, she’s not breathing down his neck, she’s standing against the opposite wall, those big browndoe-eyes staring at him through the mirror. 

Billy’s so afraid he doesn’t dare breathe. 

A second passes. 

Neither one moves. 

Then two. 

Silence. 

Three. 

“Heather?” Billy whispers. 

She leans her head back and screams. 

Billy jumps, and scrambles backwards until he hits the bathroom door, trying to unlock it without looking, eyes still stuck on Heather’s screaming reflection. He hears the lock click, and throws the door open so hard it’s a shock he doesn’t hear his dad’s voice shouting at him, and rushes past his own bedroom door to crash into Max’ room. He falls down into the space between her bed and the wall, just as she opens her eyes. She props herself up on one arm to glance down at Billy. He’s curled up, knees pulled tight to his chest, and he can feel his whole body shaking. 

“Billy? You okay?” 

Billy doesn’t say anything. He’s afraid that if he’ll open his mouth, he’ll just scream, and maybe it’ll sound like Heather, _oh god, Heather-_

“Nightmare?” Max asks, and her steady, albeit tired, voice pulls him out of his own head. He nods. 

The first few weeks after the Mindflayer, Billy had nightmares almost every single night. This is not a new thing for Max to deal with.

She sits up a little straighter and pulls her blanket from where it rests, folded, at the end of her bed. She drags it up, and pushes her duvet off towards Billy on the floor. He grabs it and pulls it up to his chin. Next comes one of Max’s two pillows. And lastly, after Max has settled back into bed, her blanket pulled around her, comes her hand. Billy grabs it and holds it tight, feeling Max squeeze his hand before she relaxes into sleep once more. Billy doesn’t know if he’ll be able to sleep. But he can’t hear Heather anymore, and Max’ hand is the anchor it always is on nights when Billy feels close to drowning, and so eventually, he feels his eyes slip closed. 

—

The next day’s a Sunday, and noon finds Billy and Max climbing into the Camaro to go pick up El and Will. 

Billy doesn’t tell anyone what he saw, and almost manages to convince himself it was all a dream. Just a nightmare. He can deal with nightmares, has done so his whole life. 

He drives to the Arcade, after having picked the kids up, and finds Steve’s Beemer waiting for them in the car park, as planned. Steve pulls out once he sees the Camaro, and Billy starts following the other car. They’re driving out of town, towards the fields that surround Hawkins where the forest stops. It’s not a long drive, and the kids chatter calms him. 

A little while later, Billy finds himself at a makeshift car park, surrounded by pumpkins. A large building, either a farmhouse or a barn, Billy isn’t certain which, is the the only building in sight. 

The kids all bundle out of the car as soon as it’s stopped, going over to join their friends that are getting out of the Beemer, parked right besides Billy’s Camaro. Billy takes a second to pull on his gloves, make sure his beanie sits right on his hair, checking himself in the rear view mirror, before stepping out. He runs cold, since the Mindflayer. He’s bundled up in coats and scarves and gloves and beanies whenever he steps outside now. 

Steve comes over, gives his hand a squeeze. Billy would like to kiss him, and although the whole of the Party might know and accept them, the rest of the world doesn’t. 

They stay close to one another as they walk, following the kids into the sea of pumpkins. 

“Last Halloween was shit,” Steve says. “But I’ll be damned if this isn’t a good one.” 

“And that starts with pumpkins?” 

“Of course! And we’ll carve them at my place on Friday.” 

“I haven’t carved a pumpkin in years.” 

Steve stops in his tracks to stare at Billy with incredulous eyes. Billy laughs. 

“I used to do it with my mum, and well, then she left, and dad wasn’t big on it. Susan does it with Max, though.” 

Steve looks at him with sympathy in his eyes, as though that is the saddest thing he’s ever heard. “Go find yourself  _ the best _ pumpkin on this entire patch, love,” he whispers, and puts a hand on the small of Billy’s back to push him forward. 

Billy laughs and goes into the field, looking for his very own pumpkin for the first time since he was a kid. 

He spends a while looking, going up rows and rows of pumpkin, until he comes across the perfect one. Big, and not too round, so there’s lots of space to carve a face in. He picks it up and has to hold it with both arms.

Once he’s made sure he’s got a good grip on it he turns around to look for the others. He’s almost at the edge of the field, and he thinks he can make out Max’ fiery hair. He starts walking in that direction, but stops when a prickling sensation comes over his neck. 

Billy turns, slowly, and finds a boy standing a little bit away, at the very edge of the pumpkin patch. He’s too young to be here alone, and he’s not really dressed for the weather. No coat. And not a single adult in the close vicinity. 

Billy goes up to him, and tilts his head to the side. The boy’s cheeks aren’t rosy yet, so he can’t have been outside for long. He’s been staring at Billy since he first laid eyes on him, eyes following his every move as Billy walked closer. But he doesn’t look scared, or happy, or nervous, or... anything, really. His face is completely expressionless. 

“You lost, kid?” Billy asks. “Can’t find your parents?” 

The boy frowns, then. “We always used to go here,” he says, and if Billy didn’t know better he’d say there was something accusing in his tone. 

“Well, let’s go back and see if we can-“ 

“Billy!” 

He turns around to see Steve waving at him, close to where Billy thinks he saw Max. He makes a gesture like he wants Billy to come. 

Billy nods, and turns back to check on the kid. 

He’s nowhere to be seen. 

Billy looks around, but he can’t spot him anywhere. Hopefully he saw his parents, and ran to them. Billy shrugs, and turns around to catch up to Steve. 

“What were you doing?” Steve asks him. 

“There was a kid. A little boy.” 

Steve frowns. “I didn’t see any little kid.” He gives Billy a grin, then. “Well, anyway, I know Cali’s probably too hot for hot cocoa, so you’re going to have to try what they sell here. It’s the best in all of Hawkins. You can literally  _ taste _ autumn.” 

Billy laughs. “You’ve convinced me.” 

And Steve’s right. It is, without doubt, the best cocoa Billy’s ever had. 

—

Billy dropped Max off at the Arcade after school, and drives home to spend a couple hours studying in the peace and quiet before his dad and Susan come home. He’s in the kitchen, a place he only dares to occupy when he’s alone if it’s not for meals.

He’s been at it for about an hour when he first hears it. 

It sounds like heels clicking against a marble floor. But Billy’s alone, or he’s supposed to be, and they have no marble. 

He sits up a little straighter. “Hello?” 

The sound stops. 

Billy goes back to studying. 

Then it starts again. Louder, this time. Like the owner’s angry. 

He stands up, slowly. Can feel the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. He keeps his eyes trained on the closed door as he backs up to the counter, and grabs one of the big kitchen knives they have there. 

Had this been a year ago, Billy would have thrown the door open and gone to check what’s happening. But since June, Billy’s learned to be more cautious of strange sounds. He remembers Heather in the mirror, suddenly, and shudders. 

The steps get closer. 

It sounds like they stop right outside the kitchen door. Like somebodies waiting, on the other side. 

Like they’re waiting for Billy to open, and let them in. Billy won’t. 

Then comes the sudden sound of small, running feet, from the other end of the house. Billy jumps. 

And somebody starts banging on the kitchen door. Loud, angry, like they’re trying to get it to fall of its hinges. Had it been a cartoon, Billy’s certain he’d be able to see the door bend and curve at the middle. 

He can feel his heart palpating, like it’s on a mission to beat itself out of his chest. He can’t get enough air in. 

From behind him, there comes the sound of nails against a chalkboard, and Billy turns around to see long scratches appearing on the window. But there’s nothing there, nothing that could be making those lines appear. Just empty air. 

In the back of his mind, he thinks that Neil will kill him, when he comes home and finds the window looking like a cat took its claws to it. 

The banging hasn’t stopped. 

Billy stumbles away, until he ends up in the corner, the door to his left and window to his right, and he slides down the wall until he ends up curled into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible. 

He clutches the knife with both hands, because he’s afraid it’ll slip through the sweaty grip he’s got on it. 

It takes a while, but eventually the noises stop. Billy still doesn’t move. 

He only stands up when he’s certain he’s supposed to be going to pick up Max, and then he keeps his hold of the knife. 

He doesn’t look at the window, doesn’t dare risking what he’ll see, instead he moves towards the door, knife raised in front of him. 

He reaches one hand forward, and turns the handle down, quickly, giving it a little push and pulling his hand back close to his body. 

The door swings open, almost in slow motion. 

There’s nothing on the other side. 

Billy should probably feel embarrassed at the way he runs from the kitchen to the front door, and throws himself into the Camaro, knife landing in the backseat. 

He tries to calm his heartbeat on the way to the Arcade, tries taking deep breaths. He feels more or less pulled together by the time the Camaro screeches to a stop at the car park. 

Max looks at him with a frown when she gets in, and glances into the backseat at the knife glinting in the afternoon sun, but she doesn’t say anything. Billy’s grateful. He doesn’t know what he’d say if she’d asked. 

— 

At first, Billy isn’t certain what made him wake up in the middle of the night on Wednesday.

He lies in bed, tense, listening. 

The water’s on in the kitchen. And it isn’t a light dripping, no, the tap is on and the water’s hitting the sink at full power. 

He spends perhaps a minute, waiting for it to turn off, before he musters up the courage to rise from underneath his covers. 

He turns the light on in his own room, but doesn’t dare do it in the hallway in case it’ll wake his dad. 

It feels like the shadows are playing with him. Like they’re more drawn out, and darker, than usually. Like they’re waiting for him to turn his back so they can change shape. 

He gets to the kitchen, and finds himself staring at the water rushing from the tap. His eyes drift towards the window. When he’d come back home with Max two days ago, there hadn’t been a single crack on it. Just the usual dirt, a spiderweb in the corner. 

When he turns back to the water, he can swear it’s turned darker, thicker. Billy’s certain his hands would come away red, if he tried washing them in it. 

Then he blinks, and the water’s turned back to normal. 

“Billy?” 

He jumps at the sound of Max’s voice. She’s frowning at him, at having found him staring at the kitchen sink. For one horrible second, Billy worries she can’t see the water being turned on at all. He feels ill. 

“T-The water-“ 

“What about the water?” 

Billy swallows. “It... It’s, it’s on.” 

“Yeah. I was waiting for it to turn cold. I went to the bathroom.” 

He feels an unbearable weight lift from his shoulders. “You turned it on?” he asks in an exhale. 

Max’ frown only deepens. “Billy, are you okay? You’ve been acting... weird. And you’re really pale. Do you want me to call Steve to come pick you up?” 

_ Yes _ _._ “No. Dad will wonder where I am.” 

“Okay.” Max nods. She’s still frowning. “Well, I’m going to get myself that glass of water. And go to bed.” 

Billy swallows. “Yeah. Yeah, I-“ He sighs. “I should do that, too.”

“Mhm. Good night, Billy.” 

“Night, Max.” 

— 

“You cold?” Max asks him on Thursday after school. They’re watching TV in the living room, Neil and Susan still at work. She must be able to see how he’s curling in on himself in his corner of the couch. 

“Yeah.” 

“Go get the blanket from my room. And can you grab my sweater? The green one. It’s in my wardrobe.” 

Billy nods as he goes to stand up. He knows which sweater she’s talking about, knows it’s one of her favourites. 

He grabs the blanket from the end of her bed and drapes it over his arm before going over to the wardrobe and opening it. 

Max’ thicket shirts and jackets and a few assortment of dresses hang in neat lines on hangers. Billy starts from one end and goes through them one by one looking for the sweater.

He’s almost at the end when he finds it, and having taken it off the hanger he’s about to put the hanger back in and close the doors when he feels his hand hit something solid. It feels way more solid than soft fabrics handing loosely in a wardrobe have any right to feel. 

He pulls the other garments to the side until he gets to the source. It’s a dress, one Billy isn’t certain he’s ever seen Max wear, and it’s unnaturally cold to the touch, almost feeling a little wet, moist. 

He can’t say what compels him to do it, but Billy glances down. 

And sees a pair of pale, dirty, bare legs sticking out from the skirt. Dangling a few feet above the bottom of the wardrobe, like the hanger is the only thing holding them up. 

Billy scrambles backwards with a shout, throwing the door to the wardrobe closed. In his rush to get away he hits the end of Max’ bed and falls to the floor. 

The door bangs open behind him and Billy squeezes his eyes shut. 

“What the fuck, Billy?” Max voice comes, and he opens his eyes and pulls himself to his feet. 

“T-There’s a corpse in your wardrobe.” 

Max looks at him like he’s insane. 

Billy’s starting to agree with her. 

Then she lets out a groan and rolls her eyes. “Really, Billy? Is this supposed to be some sort of joke about hiding skeletons in closets? Halloween isn’t until three weeks from now.” 

With that, she marches up to the wardrobe and opens the door wide. 

“Max, Max, no-“ 

“There’s nothing here,” Max says, unimpressed. 

“In the dress- Max, Max, step away from the wardrobe, Max-“ 

Instead, Max leans in, and Billy’s certain he’s about to see something stick out it’s pale arms and pull her in with it. 

But Max just grabs the hanger with the dress, and pulls it out. She shakes it a little in front of her. 

“This dress?”

There’s no legs sticking out from it now. It’s upper part isn’t sticking out, like something’s solid is hiding inside. It’s just a dress. 

“Y-yeah.” Billy can’t keep his voice from shaking. 

Max frowns at him and shakes her head. “There’s nothing wrong with it.” 

She’s about to put it back in the wardrobe. 

“Max!” 

She turns around with a huff. “What?” 

“Burn it.” 

“No! What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Don’t hang it. Not again.” 

Max throws her arms out, dress swishing like it’s dancing from the movement. Billy shudders. “Fine!” She pulls the hangar out, and throws it into the bottom of the wardrobe, before opening one of her drawers and stuffing the dress in there. “Happy now?” 

Billy nods. 

“God, Billy.” She stomps over and takes hold of his arm. “Come on. Movie’s not finished.” 

“It’s a rerun.” 

“I don’t care.” 

— 

Once Billy and Max get to Steve’s place on Friday evening, everyone else is already there. They’re having a big sleepover, all the parents allowing it because they have come to trust Steve as a babysitter, and other than Steve it’ll be four more high schoolers, three of them siblings to one of the kids and the other one Steve’s coworker. 

Max runs off to find her friends as soon as they step foot inside, carrying her pumpkin in her arms. Billy dumps their backpacks by the front door, a firm grip on his own pumpkin. He finds Steve, Nancy and Jonathan setting up carving stations in the backyard by the pool. Which means Robin’s probably watching the kids to make sure none of the little shits break some of Steve’s mum’s precious art. 

Steve plants a kiss on his lips as soon as he sees him, and Billy hands over his pumpkin so Steve can put it beside his own. 

Once everything’s set up, Jonathan goes with Nancy to get Robin and the kids, and they begin carving. 

Robin and El seem to be having some sort of contest in who can carve the most horrifying face. Billy quickly looks away. 

Nancy is carving a ghost, and Jonathan seems to be trying to carve her silhouette. Billy can see him glancing at a photo for reference every now and then. 

Steve carves a pumpkin with an ordinary smile, but with fangs. 

“It’s a vampire!” he tells Billy when he raises an eyebrow at him. 

He’s pretty certain the kids are doing some mix between fantasy, Star Wars, and ordinary Jack-o’-Lanterns. 

Usually, Billy would have been right there with the others in carving spooky shit, but he’s dealt with too much spooky shit this past week to be able to wilfully add to the list. 

Instead, Billy carves what Nancy calls ‘the most adorable pumpkin she’s ever seen’. It’s a simple design; round eyes and a smiling mouth. 

“Don’t throw anything away, guys! Remember I promised Ms. Henderson she’d get enough to bake however much she wants!” Steve calls halfway through carving. 

Once everyone’s finished, they line them up beside each other and light them all. 

Afterwards, Nancy and Steve make them hot cocoa, and Billy goes with Robin to get out all the extra pillows and duvets Steve has. Steve’s got enough guest rooms that they can all pair up and get beds to sleep in. It’s part of the reason they decided to do this at Steve’s place. Robin in her own room, then Nancy and Jonathan, Max and El, Mike and Lucas, Dustin and Will, and finally Billy and Steve in Steve’s bedroom. 

—

Billy feels like he’s just fallen asleep when he wakes up again. It’s still dark out, and Steve’s sleeping soundly besides him, sprawled out on his stomach. 

A quick glance at Steve’s alarm clock tells him it’s just a little past 1 am. 

Billy lies back down and listens. It reminds him too much of Wednesday night. 

But instead of hearing water, Billy hears something else, something that chills him to his core. 

He glances up, towards the door of Steve’s bedroom, but it’s too dark to see clearly. 

Gently, so as not to wake Steve, in case it turns out to be nothing but Billy’s tired mind playing tricks on him, he gets up from the bed and steps closer to the door until he can see the handle clearly. 

It’s being pulled down, slowly, like something is trying to get in without being heard, and then just as it can pull the door open it’s let go off, and ricochets back with a snap, only for the whole thing to start anew. 

Billy can feel his airway getting tighter, can feel his heartbeat quicken. His mouth feels dry. 

He fists his hands at his sides to keep them from shaking, and squeezes his eyes shut.

“It’s a dream, it’s a dream, it’s just a dream, you’re still dreaming, you’re dreaming, it’s a dream, a dream, just a dream, just-“ 

He’d started backing up without realising, and falls over something Steve’s left on the floor. He hits it with a crash, and lets out a cry when he hears the door open, scrambling backwards until he’s curling up in the corner. 

Then Steve’s there. Billy can’t see him, eyes still squeezed shut, but he can smell him, that mix of shampoo and cologne and hairspray that always clings to him. Steve disappears, but he doesn’t go far. Billy can hear him shouting at something, but he can’t make out the words. It’s like his ears are stuffed with cotton. He thinks he hears Dustin’s voice, which doesn’t make much sense. 

“Billy?” Steve’a back. “Billy, love? Breathe, just try to breathe. It’s okay. You’re safe, the boys were just trying to play a prank on us. Breathe, love.” 

Billy does, eventually, calm down. And when he raised his head from his own knees and opens his eyes, he’s met with Steve’s smile. There are several desk lamps lit, illuminating the room in a warm glow. 

“Come on,” Steve says, and gives Billy a hand to help him up. He leads him back to bed, and curls his body around Billy’s. Billy feels safe. And closing his eyes, breathing Steve in, he thinks he might be able to fall back asleep. 

—

Billy’s running. 

He’s running through the dark, cold water sloshing at his feet with every step he takes. 

He has no destination, no goal, he just knows he needs to keep running. Because he can hear them. 

The darkness is that pitch black, black hole type of darkness, that no light could possibly dream of infiltrating. 

There’s nowhere to go. 

There’s just darkness. 

And the others. 

Billy can’t see them, but he can feel them, hear their whispers carried on the non existent breeze, can smell their rotting flesh. It’s making him nauseated. 

Their feet hit the ground around him, water splashing with every step, and he can tell they’re getting closer. 

Surrounding him. 

—

“You alright?” 

Billy blinks. He’s sitting at Steve’s kitchen table. It’s morning, still early. The others aren’t up yet. “Huh?” 

Steve frowns at him over the rim of his coffee mug. “You spaced out.” He tilts his head to the side. “Where’d you go?” 

“I-“ Billy shakes his head, tries to think back. “Nowhere.” 

“Hey.” Steve sets his mug back down on the table. “Max talked to me, yesterday. Told me you’d been acting weird. She’s worried about you.” 

Billy stares down into his own cups. It’s black. “I know,” he whispers, and reaches out for the milk. 

“What happened, last night?” 

“I panicked. Thought something was trying to get in. Then I tripped on your stuff, and the door opened.” 

Steve nods. “Yeah, the boys were trying to play a prank on us. Think they wanted to scare us a little.” 

Billy scoffs. “They succeeded.” 

Steve reaches out and lays a hand over Billy’s on the table. “They’re sorry. I shouted at them, and then El and Max came and took over for me. Chewed them out real good. Nancy and Jonathan, and Rob, came and took them away.”

Later, once everyone has had their fill of breakfast, before they’re going home, the boys like in front of Billy and apologise. He can see it on their faces that they won’t to ask, but one look from Steve shuts them up nicely. Billy would like to feel annoyed, but he’s too busy feeling relieved. 

—

Billy’s back at Steve’s on Sunday evening. Robin wanted to watch horror movies, and Billy just wanted to hang out with her and Steve, so he pops the three of them some popcorn and goes to sit at the dining table to study while Steve and Robin watch the movie from the couch. 

He hears screams from the TV, followed by Robin’s laughter, and soon after Steve pulls up a chair and sits down beside him. 

Billy doesn’t look up from his homework, but he does raise an eyebrow. 

“Robin’s a little crazy.” 

“Yeah,” Billy says, like it’s obvious. “She’s your best friend, you’re only noticing this now?” 

Steve flicks his bicep. 

“Ow!” Billy laughs, and turns to grin at him. “She did tell you she loves Halloween. And we’ve fought actual monsters.” 

“True,” Steve says, and leans forward to peck Billy on the lips. He then reaches a hand up and starts combing through Billy’s hair. 

Billy closes his eyes and moans. “Don’t stop.” 

Steve chuckles. “I won’t. Although if you keep making such noises we might have to move this upstairs.” 

“Mm. Yeah, I wouldn’t say no to that.” 

“Guys!” comes Robin’s voice from the couch. “I can fucking hear you!” 

—

Billy didn’t like the woods around Hawkins even before he found out what lurks in its shadows. He hates to admit it, but he always gets slightly nervous when he has to drive down a road surrounded by trees on both sides. 

Especially when it’s dark. Like right now.

He’d kissed Steve goodbye and waved to Robin as they both pulled out of the Harrington’s driveway, and gone in separate directions to get home. If it wasn’t for Neil wanting him to be home on time, he might’ve gone after Robin until he really had to make a turn towards his part of town. 

Billy glances into the rear view mirror and almost hits the breaks. 

Heather’s behind him, standing in the middle of the empty, dark street. 

She starts to move. But not to walk forward, no, it’s like her body is being dragged out like a piece of gum, her limbs becoming longer and hair starting to move like Medusa’s snakes. As Billy watches, she transforms into a tall, sinewy creature, almost unrecognisable from the Heather Billy knew.

He presses down on the gas pedal and turns back to look out through the window just in time to see another Heather, this one looking like Billy remembers her, standing in front of his car. 

He’s going too fast. 

He doesn’t have time to stop. 

Instead, he crashes into her, and part of Billy is expecting to hear the crunch of bones. 

Instead, as the hood of the Camaro collides with her, she turns into white mist that scatters up against the window and into thin air. 

Billy swerves to the side and parks the Camaro half up on the grass. He throws the door open and rushes out into the night, not pausing to think or look back as he rushes in between the tree lines. 

He doesn’t dare drive. His hands are shaking, and Heather was both behind and in front of him on the road, and as much as the woods unnerve him they feel like the safer option. 

He didn’t get far from Steve’s house, but it’s dark between the trees. The moon doesn’t seem able to reach the ground. But Billy has a vague idea of which direction Steve is in, so he runs. 

And trips on a branch, or a tree root, or something, and falls to his knees, catching himself with his palms. He doesn’t feel much there anymore, the scars from the Mindflayer keeping the area mostly numb. 

He picks himself up, and keeps running, ignores the branch that scratches at his face like dirty nails. 

The ground disappears from underneath him, and for a second Billy wonders if he’s back in that dark place with its whispering voices. 

But then it rushes up to meet him, the air getting knocked out of his lungs, and he rolls down a small hill. 

He doesn’t waste anytime checking himself for injuries, because he can see light up ahead, and if he’s well enough to run, then he’s going to continue doing so. 

He ends up banging at Steve’s front door, only ever pausing to punch in the doorbell, as he stands there shivering.

He hears running footsteps from inside and whimpers. 

The door’s pulled open and Billy would have fallen if Steve didn’t catch him. 

“Billy?” he asks and helps Billy inside, closing the door behind them. 

Billy pulls his sleeves down over his hands and fidgets with the hem. He’s still taking gasping breaths, as though he’s run a marathon. 

“H-Heather,” he says. “Heather’s following me.” 

Steve looks at him like he’s grown a second head. Or like he’s just escaped and asylum. The thought makes Billy laugh shakily. “Billy. Heather’s dead.” 

“I know. Not like that’s stopping her, though.” 

Steve’s still staring at him, and lifts a hand to drag it through his hair. His eyes zero in on Billy’s cheek. “You’re bleeding. And there’s dirt all over you.” 

Billy nods, rapidly. He licks his dry lips. “I ran through the woods.” 

Steve’s eyes look like they’re about to bogle out of their sockets. “Alright, tell you what, you stay here tonight. Go take a bath. I’ll radio Max, tell her where you are. She can tell your dad your car broke down, or something.” 

“Okay.” He hates how tiny his voice sounds. 

—

Ten minutes later, Billy’s soaking in Steve’s tub. He’s washed his hair first, but now he’s leaning back and closing his eyes, hoping the warm water will relax his aching muscles. 

He doesn’t move until the water turns from hot to freezing, and considers just draining it and fill it up again, but Steve’s voice comes through the closed bathroom door. 

“Billy? Love? You’ve been in there a while now. You haven’t fallen asleep, right?” 

So Billy opens his eyes, and startles so hard water sloshes over the rim of the tub. 

There’s ice in the water. 

Big cubes, like those you buy at the store for the freezer. 

He jumps out of the tub and doesn’t bother with a towel before throwing the door open and crashing into Steve’s chest. 

“Billy?!” 

“I-Ice cubes. In the water.” 

Steve lets go of him to step into the bathroom. Billy goes to stand in the open doorway. He watches as Steve goes up to the tub and sticks his hand in it. 

He looks up at Billy with a frown. “There’s nothing there, Billy. Though it’s cold enough I understand why you’d imagine that.” 

“No, no, Steve, there was! I didn’t  _ imagine _ them! They were there! I-I could  _ feel _ them, Steve!” It’s getting harder to breathe again. 

Steve gets closer, grabs the towel he’d left for Billy earlier on the closed toilet lid, and puts it around his shoulders. He rubs his hands down Billy’s clammy arms, and moves his head so he can catch Billy’s gaze. “Okay, okay, I believe you, love, I believe you. Breathe, okay?”

But Billy can see he doesn’t. He looks so concerned Billy could cry. And he’s tired. So he’s going to pretend. Pretend that he isn’t making both Max and Steve worry that he’s finally loosing his sanity. 

“You’re wet all over. Let’s get you warmed up, hm?” 

He can breathe again by the time they get to Steve’s room, but his hands are trembling so hard Steve has to help him into soft pyjama pants and a worn t-shirt. The towel is exchanged for a blanket, and Steve sits him down in his desk chair and blow dries Billy’s hair. 

He piles another blanket on top of the duvet as they go to sleep, and Billy curls up at his side and wonders if he’ll ever feel safe again. 

—

The first few days of the week are uneventful, with Billy sticking close to Robin while at school and Max at home, so of course something is bound to happen. 

He thinks he has a nightmare, because he wakes with a cry that turns into a chocked gasp when he can’t get air into his lungs. 

Heather’s floating above him. And her clammy hands are squeezing his neck. 

Billy tries to scream, but nothing leaves him except tiny panicked noises. His chest keeps convulsing weakly. 

Heather’s eyes, always big, seem too big for her face. And while her mouth is expressionless, her eyes are angry. 

She parts her lips and breathes in his face. Her breath smells like earth and decay. Her hair tickles his cheek. He can feel freezing water dripping from her feet onto his own. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, but he can still feels those cold fingers digging into his windpipe, trying to squish his Adam’s apple. 

The door is thrown open, and the hands disappear. Billy wheezes, and takes in a lungful if air. He opens his eyes and sees his dad, illuminated from the light in the corridor. 

It’s the first time Billy’s been grateful for his dad bursting into his room. 

“D-dad-“ Billy isn’t certain what he’s about to say. If he’s actually about to thank Neil Hargrove for something. 

“Stop with those infernal noises, boy! You’re waking the whole house!” 

He walks up to Billy and slaps him across the cheek. Billy flinches and curls up on his side, back to his dad. 

Neil stomps over and throws the door closed behind himself. 

Billy closes his eyes and feels hot tears down his cheeks. 

— 

He’d have imagined he’d dreamt Heather, and had woken his dad up with his nightmares, if it weren’t for the bruises in the shape of handprints around his neck in the morning. 

He covers it up with a scarf. 

—

Hawkins has an annual Autumn Fair, starting on the 17th, set up next to a cornfield, which just feels like a bit of an obvious joke to Billy. Still, on Thursday after school and dinner, Billy drives himself and Max there to meet up with the rest of the teens of the Party. Joyce and Hopper are working. 

He walks through the stands with Steve and Robin, the kids having run off by themselves as soon as they saw each other, and Nancy and Jonathan sharing hot cocoa and licking it off each other’s lips last Billy saw them. 

He eats a caramel apple, and watches Robin win herself a big teddy bear with an orange leaf on its belly and bat wings attached to its back. 

“I have to take a piss,” he announces after a while, while they’re stood looking over some figurines carved out of wood. 

“You could go to the corn maze,” Steve says, and Robin makes a gagging sound. 

“Men are disgusting.” 

“Please. You wish it was that easy for you to take care of your business.” Billy shoots her a grin as he leaves, sauntering away from the fairground and to the corn field. 

He doesn’t feel comfortable going far, but moves past the first rows until he doesn’t think he’s going to get interrupted. Would be shit if Hop had to take him in for being indecent or something. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Billy Hargrove.” 

Seems he didn’t go far enough. 

Except... Billy knows that voice. Not very well, and he hasn’t heard it since this summer, but it’s not like he could actually be right-

He zips his pants closed, and turns around. 

Tom Holloway is standing in front of him, a blonde man beside him, blocking the entrance Billy came through. 

“The little fag my daughter tried to help. Well, look where it got her! Look where it got us!” 

Billy flinches. 

“It’s like I always say, Tom, nothing good can come from people like that,” the blonde man says. Both his and Tom’s pants are dark at the bottom, like they’ve been walking through a shallow stream. 

Tom nods, thoughtfully. “Yes, but at least this one’s pretty.” 

The other man chuckles, and it sounds like the growl of a predator. “He looked really pretty with blood rushing down his chin, didn’t he? Maybe we should do a repeat performance.” 

Billy turns on his heel and runs. 

He has to go deeper into the field, and he thinks he can hear their laughter following him, all the way until he makes a turn and crashes through the row of corn to emerge on the fairground, lights almost blinding him. 

For a second, he thinks he glimpses Heather staring at him among the crowd, and once again turns and starts running. 

He finds Steve close to where he left him, but he’s alone now, and lets out a shout when Billy takes his hand and pulls him away from the people to where he parked the Camaro. 

“Billy? Billy, hey!” 

Billy comes to a stop and turns around to stare at him, breathing hard. 

“I saw Tom. Tom Holloway. Heather’s dad. And a blonde man. I think- I think they wanted to kill me. I ran, and then I saw Heather in the crowd, and she was-“ 

“Billy,  _ stop! _ ”, Steve shouts. 

“Steve,” Billy begs. “ _Please_. Please, they were in the corn field, and they told me it was my fault they all died, and they called me a f-fag, and, and-“ He can feel his vision tunnelling. It’s like he’s about to pass out. 

Steve reaches up to hold his cheeks.

“Billy? Billy, love, it’s all in your head. It’s not real. It’s... I don’t know, it’s your misplaced guilt, and, and, a few nights of little sleep and nightmares, but it isn’t-“

“ _ Yes it is! _ Look! Look what she did to me!” He pulls his coat open at the neck and tugs his scarf off. He knows the bruises are dark around his neck. 

Steve shuts up and stares. “... what the fuck?” he whispers. 

“I woke up last night and she was hoovering above me, digging her fingers in.” He can feel tears start to slide down his cheeks. “Steve, I’m scared.” 

Steve reaches out and pulls him close. Billy buries his face against his neck. He can feel Steve’s hands gripping his jacket tightly.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe me?” he whispers. “You’ve fought actual monsters, but you draw the line at ghosts?” 

Billy hears Steve let out a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry. It’s just... I don’t want to. I’m tired of all the fucking shit, Billy, and I don’t want you to be hurt again, and I don’t know how to help you, and I  hate feeling helpless.” 

They stay like that, for a while. 

—

Billy’s getting real tired of waking up in the middle of the night. 

He stays in bed for a second, dreading hearing or seeing something that’ll tell him why his body thought it a good idea to wake up. 

Nothing out of the ordinary happens, though, and he realises he needs to pull a Max. 

He’s thirsty. 

It’s such a normal thing Billy actually starts to laugh a little. 

And so he finds himself in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and drinking his glass of water, when the peaceful quiet is disturbed. 

It’s the phone ringing. 

And it’s 3 am. 

The phone should never ring at 3 am. 

Billy stares at it, apprehension dawning and making him shallow. 

He doesn’t want to answer. 

He knows he won’t like what he hears on the other end if he does.  _ He knows. _

But if he doesn’t, that means his dad’s going to wake up, and Neil dragging himself out of bed only to find Billy just a few feet from the phone is a sure fire way of earning himself a beating.

So, hands trembling, Billy goes up to the phone and answers it. Who knows, maybe he’s lucky and one of Susan’s relatives is hurt, or some shit. 

“Hello?” comes the voice of a small kid. A little boy, Billy thinks. His voice seems to echo. 

“Hi,” Billy says, unsure. 

And the boy starts rambling. Billy thinks he’s sobbing, little hiccups interrupting his speech every now and then. 

“I want to go home. I want to go home to mommy. Dad cries so much. I’ve never seen him cry. They had to bury an empty casket. It was so small. I don’t think I would have fit.” 

Billy feels his whole body go cold. 

From the direction of the bathroom, he can hear the sound of heels starting to click their way down the corridor. 

“Hello?” the boy cries from the phone. “ _ Billy? _ ”

Billy slams the phone down and runs out of the kitchen, into the living room and hallway, where he grabs his keys and slams his shoulder into the front door, half convinced it won’t let him out. 

But it gives, and Billy runs out of the house and to the Camaro, throwing himself into the front seat and reviving the engine. 

He keeps his walkie on the floor in front of the driver’s seat, and now he reaches down for it with fumbling fingers.

He turns it on, gets the right signal, the one the whole Party uses. It’s hard driving one handed and barefoot, but Billy’s a skilled driver and he’s got desperation and adrenaline working in his favour. 

“Guys!” he shouts as he starts driving away from Cherry Lane. “Guys, please! Anyone awake?! Come on, come on! Fuck, guys!” He doesn’t realise he’s crying until he hears his voice catch on that last word. 

He keeps trying to contact them as he drives, on his way to Steve. But static is all gang answers him. 

Eventually, he hears a voice, but it isn’t one of the twelve he wants to hear. 

It’s the little boy. 

“... casket... so small... bury me... mommy... dad crying... I want to come home...!” 

His voice sounds distorted. Billy throws the walkie away from his lap into the passenger’s seat. 

The walkie keeps alternating between static and the boy’s wailing voice. 

But then, like a lighthouse in a stormy sea, he hears Robin. 

“... Billy?” Her voice is heavy with sleep. 

Billy lets out a sob that must be loud enough for her to hear, because when her voice comes next she sounds more alert. 

“Billy? Billy, what’s wrong? Where are you?”

“On my way to Steve’s. Robin, Robin, shit, shit, shit- Fuck!” 

Heather’s standing in the middle of the road, up ahead. 

Billy presses down on the breaks. 

The Camaro won’t stop. It keeps driving. 

Heather’s hands start to extend, her fingers becoming so long they reach her ankles. 

Billy screams. 

“ _ Billy! _ ” 

“The Camaro won’t stop, Robin. Heather’s- Heather’s-“ 

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He knows, in the same way he knew he’d hear something horrible if he answered the phone, that this time, when the Camaro hits Heather, she won’t disappear into mist. Her claws will crash through the windscreen and bury themselves deep in his chest, the same way the Mindflayer did. But it’ll be worse, because it’ll be Heather’s face staring down at him. 

His throat burns where he felt her hands five days ago.

He pushes the car door open and throws himself out. 

He’s pretty sure he feels the skin of his arm tear, and his sweatpants rip, where he hits the asphalt and rolls to the side of the road. But he protects his head, and the adrenaline gets him up and running. 

Into the woods, away from Heather and the Camaro and the road. 

The problem is that Billy isn’t sure where exactly he was when he jumped. He doesn’t know which direction to run. Doesn’t know where safety is. 

The branches whip at him as he runs, but he barely feels it. He can still hear the boy sobbing, and doesn’t know if it’s in his head or if he’s actually following him, just past where his eyesight can reach. 

It reminds him too much of running through the dark, wet space. Except it isn’t water underneath his feet, it’s sticks and stones, and they’re piercing his soles. 

But the trees are clearing, and there’s pale moonlight shining, and Billy expects a clearing or someone’s backyard, so he increases his pace. 

What he doesn’t expect is the quarry, and he’s running too quickly to stop. 

One step, he’s on solid ground. 

Another, and he’s in the air. 

The rush of cold air is nothing against the chilling freeze of the water as he hits it.

His head disappears underneath the murky water, and he goes under. For a second, he doesn’t know where up is, doesn’t know which way to swim to get to the surface, and his clothes are pulling him down and the freezing water is making his muscles lock up. He feels heavy. It’s tempting to just give up, let himself float and let fate decide what happens to him. 

But Billy Hargrove has already won against death once, and he’s survived being Neil Hargrove’s son for over seventeen years. 

So with more energy than it should take, he pushes away with his legs, and swims. 

The water starts to get shallower, so shallow Billy tries to stand up, but he just collapses back with a splash. Swallows a mouthful of water. 

He’s shivering, and exhausted, but he manages to drag himself up to the shore on hands and knees, where he ends up coughing up water, and passes out. 

—

Billy wakes in his own bed. 

His head hurts, and his muscles ache the way they only do after a workout that leaves him throughly spent. 

The sun shines in through his bedroom. His bedroom, which looks different. At first Billy can’t pinpoint what it is, but something’s changed. 

Then his eyes land on his desk, and he sees a photo album. It’s got kid-Billy and his mum on the cover. 

Billy doesn’t own any such album. Didn’t even know Neil kept enough pictures of her to fill and album. Thought he burned every single one Billy couldn’t save. 

But maybe he’s kept them, and maybe this is a peace offering. A Get-Well-Soon gift, because Billy thinks he’s been hurt, or ill.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it. There’s a mist over his mind. For some reason, that word makes him shudder. 

He drags himself out of bed, and opens the door a little over an inch. 

He can smell pancakes, and freshly backed bread, wafting from the kitchen. It’s so misplaced it makes him frown. 

But at least it’s safe, so he opens the door wider and steps out. 

He starts walking, but ends up staring at one of the walls of the corridor leading from bedrooms and bathroom. 

There are photographs on the walls. Of him and Max. Of them as kids, and every school photograph they’ve ever taken. Framed. Hung up on the wall. 

Like they’re something to be proud of. Something to look at, and cherish. 

Billy’s only ever seen Neil and Susan’s wedding photograph put on display like that. 

Dread fills him, and he’s uneasy as he steps into the kitchen. 

But he finds one of the most ordinary and whimsical scenes in the history of family breakfasts. 

The radio’s on, and Susan’s humming along as she piles pancake upon pancake on a plate. Max laughs. Billy doesn’t think he’s ever heard her laugh so freely in this kitchen. His dad is sitting at the head of the table, lips turned up under his moustache, and smile lines along his eyes. The sun’s streaming in through the window. There’s newly baked bed on the table.

Billy stops in the doorway, staring. 

Max’ eyes land on him, and she raises both eyebrows. “You going to stand there all morning? We’ll be late. You’re driving me to the Arcade, and meeting up with Steve, remember?” 

He wants to hiss at her to be quiet, gaze shooting to his dad, but Neil’s smile remains unchanged. 

Billy slowly goes over and sits down in his chair. 

“Oh! Morning, Billy!” Susan says, and comes over to kiss the crown of his head. 

Billy feels himself stiffen up. 

But none of the other occupants of the room react like this is at all strange, and Susan immediately goes back to finishing the pancakes. 

She brings a plate piled high with them, sugar and jam and syrup already on the table. Only after everyone else has taken some, does Billy dare reach out and take a pancake and piece of warm bread. 

He takes the pitcher, and fills his glass with water. 

Susan reaches out with her own glass, and asks Billy to fill hers as well. 

He lifts the pitcher and starts to tilt it over her glass, when his eyes catch on the reflection in it. 

Heather’s behind him. And Billy remembers everything. 

He feels the water pitcher slip out of his grasp. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t shatter, Billy wasn’t holding it that high up, but it falls over and knocks down Susan glass on its way, and water pools out over the tablecloth. 

Billy flinches and cowers, expecting Neil’s hand to meet his skin any second. 

But the hit never comes.

He looks up at the others to see them staring, frowning, as though they can’t imagine what would bring on such an reaction from him. 

“You alright, son?” His dad asks.  _ ‘Son’.  _ Not _‘_ _ boy!’ _ . Not even ‘Billy’. 

Maybe it’s a test. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“‘Sir’?” Neil laughs. “What am I, your employer? It’s just a little bit of water, Billy. It’s easy to clean up.” 

Susan grabs a roll of paper towels, and together, they all soak up the water. 

— 

After what is probably the weirdest breakfast Billy’s ever had, he decided to bail on Steve. Tells Max to tell him he was feeling tired, as he drops her off at the Arcade.

Then he drives to the diner, and orders himself a coffee. 

His drink’s just arrived when a tall girl with short red hair and glasses slides into the booth in front of him, a plate with a slice of pie in hand. 

“You’re dying,” she immediately says, and Billy flinches. “No, listen Billy, you’re dying. Right now. You have to pull yourself out of here.” 

“ _ What? _ ” 

“You’re dying, and you need to wake up.” 

“Is that why my family seems fucking normal and my dad isn’t hitting me?” Billy doesn’t think he’s ever said that aloud. Doesn’t know why he’s confessing it now. 

But the girl nods, as though she already  _ knows _ . Like this isn’t news to her. 

But Billy’s never met her.

“I died before you moved to Hawkins,” she says, like Billy’d asked aloud. Maybe he had. “So you’ve noticed how weird everything is. Good.” She motions down at her plate, at the untouched pie on it. Now that he’s looking more closely, he can see a leg and tail of a rat sticking out between the mess of strawberry. At least Billy hopes it’s strawberry. The tail curls grotesquely around the curve of the plate. He feels close to throwing up. 

He glances away from it and leans back in his seat, instead focusing on her face. “You’re a ghost?” 

She nods, grimacing. “The Upside Down took me. But I’m not- I’m not like the others!” she adds, when Billy feels ready to bolt. 

“ _ What are they? _ ” he whispers. 

She sighs. “They’re... well, Hawkins’ always been weird. We’re like... like memories. And in October, the Veil gets thin. I died two years ago, and I go back in October to check on my parents. And Nancy.” 

“Nancy? Nancy Wheeler?” 

She nods, gives him a sad little smile. “She was my best friend.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah. Me too. But I’m happy for her, and for all of you. You’ve found each other. So you  _ can’t die _ yet. Okay? The others will leave, eventually. After the 31st. You just have to go back and survive until then.” 

“And next year?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t touch anyone, and they don’t see me. I think they can sense me, sometimes, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking.” She goes to stand up, and stops right before passing by him. “You have to go back, Billy. I don’t want you here. And they need you.” 

Once she’s gone, Billy reaches out for his coffee again. And feels the cold ceramic of the mug against his palm. 

He reaches his hand back and lifts the other one. 

There are no scars on the palms of his hands. 

—

Billy’s on the beach. The California beach. 

The beach he always used to go to, when he was a kid, before his mother left and his father moved them to a smaller house.

The sun is close to going down, almost hitting the water’s edge far out there on the horizon, and when he turns around to look behind him on the beach, he sees his parents. 

Not Neil and Susan, no. 

Neil and his mum. 

She’s dressed in a thin yellow sundress, flowers all over it, bikini underneath, and his dad has got swim trunks on.

They’re dancing. 

He’s twirling her around and she’s laughing, lifting her arms in tune to music only they can hear. There’s seagulls caving up in the sky above them. The sun is starting to paint it red and orange and pink and purple. 

Then Neil pulls her close and kisses her neck, before his mum guides his head back up to kiss her on the lips. 

She turns around in Neil’s embrace and gives Billy a smile. 

“One last wave, honey!” she calls. “Then we have to get home. You’re dad’s cooking his specialty.” She turns her head and kisses Neil, again. 

Billy’s dad doesn’t have a specialty. Billy’s dad barely knows how to cook. All he can do is bbq. 

But this is his mum, and Neil doesn’t seem like the asshole Billy’s grown up with, so maybe he should just feel grateful. 

He glances down at himself, at his unmarred chest, and the surfboard he’s holding. 

And he smiles, and turns around to go into the sea. It’s been over a year since he last got to surf. 

He waits for the right size before paddling out to it, and balancing on the board like he’s done for almost as long as he can remember. It’s second nature to him.

So it shocks him when the wave turns out to be bigger than expected, and the sky is turning rapidly darker, much quicker than it should, and the last thing he sees is his parents turning around to walk away from the shore, before the wave crashes over his head and brings him down. 

He loses his board, and can’t seem to find his way out of the water. It’s dark, too dark, and the saltwater stings his eyes as he tries to figure out which way is up. 

Something grips his foot. A hand, a cold hand, and he kicks out with his other leg, feels his toes get tangled in hair as his foot connects with a head, and the hand disappears only to be replaced by several more. 

He feels the fingers get longer until they’re clawing into his feet and up his legs, pulling him down into the deep. 

Saltwater fills his lungs, and he opens his mouth in a voiceless scream. 

—

He’s chocking when he wakes up. 

They’re something in his throat, and at first he thinks it’s Heather’s hands squeezing him, then he thinks it’s the water still in his lungs and tries to cough it up, but it just makes the feeling worse. 

Slowly, sounds and sight starts filtering in, and Billy can hear a relentless beeping and then Steve’s face blinking in and out of focus. 

He’s stroking Billy’s hair, squeezing his hand, and his mouth is moving but he’s speaking too quickly for Billy to catch what he’s saying. 

He closes his eyes and surrenders to the dark. 

—

Next time Billy wakes, the thing in his throat is gone, and he can breathe. 

As soon as his eyes are open, they land on Steve. Steve, who’s watching him like a hawk, and basically throws himself from his chair so it scrapes against the floor. He reaches out for Billy’s hand again. 

“Fuck, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” Billy croaks, qnd Steve hands him a glass of water from the bedside table. 

“I woke up to Robin calling me,” he says while Billy drinks. “She said you’d been trying to contact us, any of us, and when she answered you sounded like you were crying and you told her you were on your way to my place, but then you screamed and said something about the car not stopping and Heather and a few seconds later she heard a crash. I called Hop and we went looking for you. We found the Camaro, a little banged up but I sent her to a mechanic, and she’s okay now. El insisted on coming with, and it’s good she did because I don’t think we’d have found you otherwise. God, Billy, I thought you were dead.  _ Again _ . That was... early Tuesday morning. It’s Friday now. You woke up this morning, I don’t know if you remember...?” 

Billy nods. “What you’d tell my dad and Susan?” 

“Hopper made something up about you being chased by an animal and having to jump out the car. Your clothes were torn and your arms were all bloody. And shit, Billy, your feet.”

Billy glances down at himself. His upper arms are dressed in crisp white bandages. And quickly, he turns the hand not in Steve’s around. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his scarred palms. 

“What happened, Billy?” Steve asks quietly. His eyes are big, almost like Heather’s-  _ no _ . 

And Billy tells him. Tells him about the phone call, about the little boy and the heels and Heather and how the Camaro wouldn’t stop when he hit the brakes. And he tells him about the girl he met, and sees the way Steve pales when he describes her, but Billy doesn’t ask, just tells him about the hands that pulled him down into the depths of the sea. 

“When the doctors pulled the tube out, you started coughing up salt water. There’s no salt water in the quarry.” Steve looks about as scared as Billy feels. 

A nurse comes by a while later, and a doctor, and they tell him that now that he’s awake he’ll most likely be able to leave tomorrow morning. They take one look at his and Steve’s clasped hands, at the way Billy’s whole body tenses at the mention of visiting hours, and leave, closing the door gently behind them.

The hospital’s quiet, as night falls. Just the soft whirr of machines and white noise mixing with Steve’s soft words as he describes the latest bullshit Keith put him through at work. 

“Right, so this woman comes in, and she’s- Do you hear that?”

“What?” Billy asks, but a second later he hears it. Heels, clicking, as though walking on marble, down the hallway. Getting closer to his room. 

“Just a nurse, right?” Steve says, but his voice sounds unsure. Like even he doesn’t really believe what he’s saying. 

“No nurse wears stilettos,” Billy says back. Still, he dares retain a sliver of hope that they will just pass his room by and continue. 

They don’t. 

They stop outside, and for a second it’s silent. Then the banging begins. 

Steve shouts and jumps, and Billy squeezes his eyes shut, gripping Steve’s hand tight. 

“What the fuck is that?!” 

“I don’t know,” Billy gasps. Part of him does feel relieved that Steve’s hearing it as well, though. That Billy isn’t crazy. “Just don’t open the door.” 

“I wasn’t going to!” Steve cries. “I’m going to call for the nurse.” 

Billy opens his eyes to see Steve press the button that will alert someone in the hospital that they need help. 

And soon after, the insistent banging stops just for the same nurse as before to enter and stare at them with raised eyebrows. Billy’s aware they must be looking quite frazzled. He’s got tears in his eyes. 

Steve pulls himself together and smiles at her. “He’s been complaining about his throat being sore all night, but didn’t feel it was bad enough to call someone. I, however, disagree.” 

She sighs and goes over to one of the cabinets in the corner of the room, opening it with a small key. “I can give you a painkiller, but that’s really all I can do.” 

“That’s great, thank you,” Steve says. 

Billy’s still breathing hard. 

The nurse pauses and sends them a slightly concerned look before leaving. “You sure you two are okay?” 

Steve nods. Billy forces a smile. 

“Okay. Try to get some sleep.” 

As soon as she’s out the door Billy lets the tears fall. Steve climbs in beside him in the bed, and holds him close. 

Throughout the night, the heels come back, and so does the knocking. It goes on for periods of five to ten minutes, again and again and again. 

They don’t move from the bed. 

—

Susan comes by in the morning with Max, but she doesn’t protest when Max asks if she and Billy can go with Steve, on the account that Steve will take Billy to pick up the Camaro and Max wants to hang out with her friends and discuss their costumes, since Halloween is in less than a week. 

In the car next to Steve, Billy feels his hands start to tremble on the way to Steve’s. He catches Steve glancing over at his fidgeting every once in a while. 

Billy decides to just blurt it out. 

“What if it’s back? Steve? What if the Mindflayer’s back?” It’s been on his mind for a while. He keeps his eyes on the road as he speaks. 

Steve sighs. “I’ll call the others once we get home.” 

Max doesn’t say anything, but Billy can feel her gaze burning as it shifts between the two of them. 

As soon as they’ve stepped inside Steve’s house, Steve makes a beeline towards the phone while Billy and Max settle on the couch in the living room. 

“What’s going on with you?” Max immediately asks him. “Do you think it’s really back?” 

Billy sighs. He’s so tired. “I don’t know, Max. But I don’t have any other explanation.” 

Max doesn’t ask anything else. Steve wanders back in and sits down in one of the armchairs. 

“Mrs. Wheeler’s out with Mike and El, shopping, and Mr. Sinclair took Lucas and Dustin with him to go somewhere, I didn’t catch where. Hop’s working, and Keith won’t let Robin leave. But Nancy’s on her way, and Joyce is coming over with Will and Jonathan.”

A while later, and they hear the sound of two cars parking outside. Steve goes to open the front door and let them in. 

“Steve told us you thought the Mindflayer might be back?” Joyce says as soon as she comes into the room. 

“I haven’t felt him,” Will adds. 

Billy shrugs helplessly. 

“I think you should all sit down,” Steve says as he come in behind Nancy and Jonathan. 

And so Billy tells them, starting with Heather’s reflection screaming in his bathroom mirror three weeks ago. He tells them about how weird his family was acting, although avoiding the little detail of his dad not hitting him. He hasn’t actually told anyone about that yet. 

“And I met this girl, eh... tall, redhead, glasses?” 

“Barb,” Nancy breathes. Billy sees Jonathan pull her a little closer. 

“Yeah,” Steve whispers. 

“No.” Nancy shakes her head, mouth set in a firm line. “No. That’s not fucking funny.” She steps out of Jonathan’s embrace, taking a step towards Billy. 

“It isn’t a joke,” Billy says. 

“Nancy, he doesn’t know who Barb is. He never met her. No one talks about her. He couldn’t know.” 

Nancy whirls on Steve. “She was my best fucking friend, Steven!”

“Yeah, I know!” Steve throws his hands up into the air. “I’m not accusing you of anything! God, she died in  _ my pool! _ While Jonathan was hiding in the bushes taking pictures of us making out!” 

Nancy falters, and backs away. Jonathan grimaces. Joyce is frowning at all three of them. 

“Whoa! She didn’t mention  _any_ of that,” Billy says. “She seemed... She seemed at peace. Told me she was happy for us. And that she comes back every October to check in on her parents.” He nods at Nancy. “And you.” 

She lets out a shaky breath. “Okay.” Nods to herself. “Okay. What happened then?”

“Woke up on the beach in Cali, saw my mum and dad happy with each other, went to surf and had a wave crash over me.Felt fingers grab me and drag me down.” 

“He woke up, then, in the hospital,” Steve says. “Started coughing up saltwater, before passing out again.” He goes on to tell them about the heels, and the knocking that went on all night. 

“It doesn’t sound like the Mindflayer,” Jonathan says. “The phone did ring when Will disappeared, but not... like that.” 

“No flickering lights?” Joyce asks, and Billy shakes his head. She grimaces. “It sounds like you’re being haunted.” 

Steve groans. “It’s not that I wanted it to be the Mindflayer, I just wanted it to be something we knew how to deal with.” 

“You could go to Murray?” Joyce says. 

“You think he’d know how to help?” Jonathan sounds sceptical. 

“It’s worth a try. Maybe Alexei can help,” she says with a shrug. 

Steve turns to look at Billy. “You up for a little road trip?” 

Billy sends him a weak grin. “You’ll drive.” 

“I can take Max and Will with me home, if you want?” Joyce says as they all start moving towards the front door, and since both Max and Will seem to jump at the idea, Billy nods gratefully back at her. She gives them a smile. “Take care, boys.” 

Just as Nancy and Joyce have pulled out of the driveway, Robin’s old car comes to a stop at the spot they just vacated. 

She jumps out of the car and climbs into the backseat of the Beemer. Billy turns in his seat to look back at her. 

“The fuck you doing here? Steve said you had to work?” 

Robin grins at him. “I escaped. Now drive, Stevie, before Keith comes looking for me!” 

Steve laughs and does as he’s told. 

“Now, where are we going?” 

“Murray and Alexei’s,” Billy says. 

“ _ Yes! _ I love those two. They’re like the cool uncles you only meet at family get togethers.” 

Steve chokes on a laugh. “That’s a... weirdly fitting description.” 

“You owe me an explanation, Billy. What the fuck happened?”

Billy’s reminded that Robin was the one who called Steve and probably saved his life. Still, he doesn’t feel like he’ll be able to say everything two more times again. Steve saves him. 

“We’ll have to tell Murray and Alexei everything when we get there, anyway. But the short version: We think Billy’s being haunted.” 

“For real?”

“Sadly,” Billy groans and sinks into his seat. 

Once they reach the bunker, Steve immediately gets out and goes over to knock on the door.

“Murray! Hey, it’s Steve!” 

“Haven’t got the time, Harrington!” comes Murray’s voice through the intercom. 

Robin bounds over so she’s in the view of the camera. “Murray! Hi!” 

“Robin! Come in!” 

Robin gives them both a grin as the doors slide open to reveal Murray’s retreating back, his arms covered with oven mitts and what seems to be a pink apron covering his front. 

“Fuck, Alexei, they’re going to burn!  _Shit!_ Get them out of the oven! The oven, Alexei! _ Dukhovka! _ ” 

What follows is some rapid Russian from the direction of the kitchen, and the sound of something clattering to the floor, before Alexei emerges with an apologetic smile. 

“Murray’s experimenting. Baking,” he explains. “Come. Sit down.”

They follow Alexei to the couch, taking off their coats before sitting down. Murray comes out from the kitchen with a tray of cupcakes and a big grin on his face. He sets it down on the middle of the table, precariously balancing on top of magazines and newspapers and whatever else sort of clutter they’ve got spread out. 

“Go on,” he says, a hand motioning from the cupcakes towards the three of them. “Try one!” 

They all reach out and take one each. Billy notes that Alexei isn’t moving for one, he’s just leaning against a desk with an amused smile. Billy wonders if they’re about to get poisoned. It would really be the cherry on the top of the shitty fucking month he’s had. 

“It’s not horrible,” Steve says with a grin, and Billy dares bite into his own. It’s actually really good. He takes another. 

“You ungrateful little shits. Alright, what do you want? I doubt this is a social call?” 

“Billy’s being haunted,” Robin says. “And these are amazing.” She reaches out for a second one. 

Murray takes two, handing one to Alexei. He looks at the three of them with his eyebrows raised. 

Billy takes a deep breath and begins telling the tale again, pausing at times to let Murray translate to Alexei when there are words the man doesn’t understand. 

At the end of it, Murray looks like his mind has been blown, which Billy didn’t think was possible to do to a man like him. 

Murray sighs. “Well,  _ I _ can’t help you.” He holds up a hand when Steve groans and Billy knows he’s about to do some combination of panic and annoyance. Murray looks like he’s about to swallow a particular bitter pill. “Didn’t say I didn’t know someone who might, though.” 

Billy sits up straighter. “Who?” he demands.

Murray doesn’t say anything, he just start fidgeting with his hands and looking around himself. Alexei hands him a notepad and a pen, and Murray gives him a look full of affection. He whispers something in Russian, and Alexei smirks back. Murray bends over the pad, and scribbles something on the paper. 

He hands it over to Billy, once he’s finished. It’s an address, to somewhere in Indianapolis. 

“Go there, and tell them Murray sent you. I’ll call ahead. Now go. Out.” 

Robin stands up at once, smiling at them gratefully, and she takes hold of Billy and starts dragging him with her towards the door. 

“Hey, no, wait-“ Steve says, but Alexei starts following them, ushering them out with the hand gestures one might use for chickens. “Who lives there?” 

Murray doesn’t answer, but Billy sees him grin and wave to them before Robin pulls him round the corner and out. 

“We can’t go tonight,” Billy says once they’re back in the car. “It’s going to get dark soon. And I need to pick up the Camaro and Max.” 

Steve stops by the mechanic, but the man just shrugs and tells them the car won’t be ready until tomorrow, and Billy’s secretly grateful. They pick up Max at the Byers’ place, and Steve drops him and Max of at Cherry. His dad doesn’t say anything when he sees Billy, no words demanding what Billy was doing driving shoeless in the middle of the night or complaint about the bill they’re getting from the hospital. Small mercies. 

— 

In the morning, Steve comes over to pick him and Max up again, with Robin in the backseat, and they fill her in on their plan for the day on the way to dropping her off at the Hendersons’. 

Billy didn’t sleep at all the night before, not daring to risk it, instead he borrowed Max’ Walkman and blasted music in his ears while trying to catch up on what he missed during the week he’d been out cold in the hospital. He’s bone tired, so he rests his head against the window and lets Steve’s and Robin’s soft voices lull him to sleep. 

— 

When next he opens his eyes, it’s to find them parked outside an apartment complex and Robin already out the car, Steve gently shaking his shoulder to wake him. He blinks tiredly at him, but gets out of the car. 

The building’s old, but well kept. There’s balconies with flowers. 

There’s no lock on the front entrance, so they go up until they the reach the third floor, as it says on Murray’s note, and press the doorbell. There’s a wreath in autumn colours hanging on the door. 

A rather short woman with greying hair, horn-rimmed eyeglasses, and several long necklaces, opens the door, taking one long look at them. She raises her eyebrows. 

“Murray sent us?” Steve says, but it sounds more like a question than a statement. 

Still, the woman gives them a bright smile. “Ah,” she says, and turns around to shout deeper into the apartment: “Findlay, dear, your clients are here!” She turns back to them. “I’ll get the tea.” And with that she’s gone. 

The man who steps up to greet them a second later looks  _ exactly _ like Murray, if Murray was a  _ witch _ . 

He’s dressed in earthy tones, soft greens and browns, clothes that can only be described as  _ flowing _ , and has several pendants and bracelets and rings adorning his body, his hair long and pulled into a ponytail at the back of his neck, his beard short and trimmed. He spreads his hands out so the bracelets clink together, and gives them a smile eerily similar to Murray’s. “Welcome.” 

At first Billy thinks it’s some elaborate Halloween costume, a prank that Murray’s pulling on them, but he soon finds that the whole apartment matches the man’s aesthetic. And his voice doesn’t sound _exactly_ like Murray’s, either.

He gestures for them to hang their coats on the hooks in the hallway, before leading them to a little room with a round table clothed in burgundy, and following his example, they take their seats, Billy in the middle with Robin and Steve on each side of him. 

“Murray said we should be expecting you, but I assume he didn’t say anything about where you were going? My brother likes keeping his life secret, after all.” 

The woman, who’s just entered with a tray of tea, scoffs at that. 

“If it weren’t for Alexei, I wouldn’t know anything about his life. At least Alexei understands the importance of family,” she says.

Steve’s mouth is hanging open, and Billy doesn’t look at him as he lifts a finger to pull his chin up. Steve clears his throat afterwards. 

“You’re Murray’s...?” Steve starts. 

“Mother,” the woman says. “Marjorie.”

“And I’m his twin. Findlay Bauman, medium, at your service. Murray may be a conspiracy theorist, but as he loves telling me, his fanaticism is grounded in science, so I know it must have taken him a lot to send you here. Now, thanks to Alexei, we know a bit about what happened this summer, and who you three are, and yesterday Murray told us about your current predicament. 

“So I could read your cards,” he gestures at an ornate wooden box on a shelf on the wall. “But I doubt that would do much. I could try to summon the spirit, or  _ spirits _ , I suppose. But I don’t think you are particularly interested in hearing more from them. I could also send you away with some sage and incense and instructions on cleansing rituals, but as the haunting isn’t connected to a specific location, that’s not really going to work. Instead, it all comes down to  _ you _ .” 

He leans forward in his chair and points a finger at Billy. Then he leans back again, and nods to himself.

“So let’s talk about ghosts. I’m going to be honest, I’ve never dealt with a ghost that is as... apparent, as your Heather. They usually stay in the shadows, make objects move and change, or talk through phones like the little boy, or the heels and banging you’ve heard. So this is new for me as well. But it doesn’t change the nature of ghosts. They’re memories, really.” 

Billy feels a shiver go through him at that. 

“They‘re like little wisps of feelings. Physical manifestations of what the people that remember them feel like when they think about them.” He smiles and gives a little shrug. “Ghosts aren’t really gone until you stop remembering them.”

“I’m not going to fucking try and forget about her.” Billy feels sudden heat in the pit of his belly, something akin to before, before this summer happened. Like his own little monster is about to wake up again. 

But Findlay smiles kindly, and it settles. “I know. Feels too much like betrayal, doesn’t it? But maybe you need to change the way you think about her.” 

“The spirits are stronger, in October, leading up to Samhain, when they reach their peak,” Marjorie cuts in, echoing what Barb told him. She’s fingering on a ring, hanging from a long chain around her neck. Her smile seems a little far away. “I remember my husband, Findlay and Murray’s late father, with love, and every October it’s like I can feel him a little stronger, feel his presence near me like a warm blanket when I go do things we’d do together.” 

Findlay nods. “A man came to me, a couple years back. Said he was being haunted by his daughter. She’d sneaked out to go to a party, gotten drunk, and called home to ask him to pick her up, but he’d been asleep and hadn’t woken up, so she’d gotten into her car to drive home by herself and crashed into a tree. Died at once. And the father, you see, he still felt guilty because he hadn’t woken up. It wasn’t his fault, wasn’t anything he did on purpose. After all, she was supposed to be safe in her bed. But because he missed her, and felt like he should be punished, that’s the form she took when she came back. It didn’t stop until he realised it wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. It’s just the way life works out, sometimes. That’s the price we pay for living.” 

— 

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Steve says, later, in the car on their way back. Billy doesn’t have to ask to know what he’s talking about. “I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to say it for you to believe it, but it’s the truth.” 

He sinks deeper into his seat, arms hugging his body. “I’m the one who took them-“ 

Steve interrupts him. “Alright, tell me this. Did you want to? When you left the Camaro that night did you know what would happen? Did you not try to fight against it?” 

Billy sighs. They’ve had this conversation before, and it’s not going anywhere. “I did, but I should have fought harder and then maybe-“ 

Robin starts laughing. “Oh wow. Well, that’s just  _ really fucking arrogant _ _._ ” 

“What?” 

“You actually believe you might’ve been strong enough to win over a fucking monster? You’re a human. No way you’d be able to fight it by yourself. And if you believe that then you’re more arrogant then I thought you were, Billy. Christ.”

They don’t speak for the rest of the ride. 

—

El corners him, while Billy’s waiting for Max outside the middle school on Monday. 

“Joyce talked to dad,” she says. “And dad talked to me. Told me about what’s happening to you.” She’s got her hands showed deep into her jacket, and when she looks up at Billy, her eyes are searching and determined. She takes a deep breath before speaking. “What if you’re like me? What if it  _ made _ you like me? It doesn’t sound like what it made Will, but it sounds like... like me.” 

Billy’s staring at her. “Like you?” 

El nods seriously, chewing on her bottom lip. “The Void is like that. Dark. Water on the floor. It’s empty, mostly. But I can see people. Living people.” 

“I don’t see anything,” Billy says. “I just hear them. Whispering. It’s full of people.” 

“Exactly,” El says, and steps away just as Max comes running up to him, getting into the passenger seat of the Camaro. Billy drives them home. 

—

“El thinks I’m like her.”

He’d dropped by Steve’s place after school on Tuesday, and they’re curled up together on the coach, TV on but Billy hasn’t been concentrating on it, so he isn’t sure what they’re supposed to be watching. 

“What?” Steve says, and moves so he can glance down at Billy, who’s resting against his chest. 

“Yeah,” Billy chuckles, only a little hysterically. “Apparently it’s real similar to the Void. Just that, in my case, it’s  _ really _ fucking crowded. With the dead.” 

“You a Necromancer, love?” 

“Maybe? What do you think about that as a Halloween costume?” 

“You want me to buy you rings with skulls?” 

Billy scoffs. “You think I don’t already own rings with skulls?” 

Steve laughs, but Billy can feel him straighten up a second later. The arms around him grow tighter. “But really, she might have a point. It’s like what Findlay - God, that’s never going to stop being weird - told us. That he’d never dealt with ghosts that actually take physical form. It would explain why they do, with you. Why they’re so much stronger. Because you’re the one conjuring them.” 

“But I don’t want them there! Why the fuck would I want to?” 

Steve’s quiet when he speaks next. “Because you’re punishing yourself. Because you think you deserve it.” 

Billy doesn’t know what to say. Because part of him, part of him feels like it might be true. He brings his hands up to clutch at Steve’s arms, still holding him, and lets himself cry. 

—

Billy’s barely slept all week, so it isn’t much of a shock to him that after having said goodbye to his dad and Susan, on their way to a Halloween themed party with their work friends, Billy lies down on the couch and blacks out more than falls asleep.

He’s running through the dark, the water splashing at his ankles, again. But this time, he can almost make out what they whispers are saying. 

He feels clammy hands grab him from behind, throwing themselves around his shoulders and neck, and pulling him backwards. 

He expects he’s going to feel his back press against an equally clammy chest, but instead feels himself break the surface of the water and keep sinking, except it feels like he’s falling through the air.

It’s like a light turns on, flickering, only shining long enough to give him snapshots of images he’d never wanted to see. Max, with long clawed fingers, scratching at her own throat until it bleeds, the colour mingling with the red of her hair, Steve, coughing up blood, his chest broken open and bleeding, Robin, red streaks running down her cheeks from her eyes, quick glimpses of Nancy and Jonathan and Murray and Alexei along with each of the kids, standing frozen with fingers down to their feet, staring at him with empty eyes, ending on El, her head cracked open, Joyce’s small form clad in a dress pulled up on a hanger, pale feet dangling, Hopper with hundreds of hands reaching up and obscuring him until all Billy can see is those hands, and the rats that start scurrying over them to feast. It all comes to a halt with one final image, and Billy gasps awake. 

He knows where he needs to go. 

The house is dark, and silent, and someone’s put a blanket on him. Max. 

He jumps off the couch, and moves towards the hallway, pulling on his shoes as quick as he can, not bothering with a coat despite the cold he feels filling him up from the inside out. 

They’re waiting for him. 

He doesn’t dare be late. 

Billy throws the door open and chokes on a gasp that maybe wants to be a scream. The streets are packed. Monsters and ghouls everywhere. 

It takes him a second to remember it’s Halloween. That Max is out Trick or Treating. 

But once he does, he pulls himself together and rushes over to the Camaro, throwing the door open and ignoring how his hands tremble as they land on the wheel. 

He wants to drive quicker, wants to speed down the streets,  _ he can’t be late, can’t give them another reason to be angry with him,  _ but he has to avoid running someone over. After all, he doesn’t need to add another ghost to haunt him. He’s got enough as it is. 

Despite the desperation he feels, it’s still too soon when he arrives at his destination.

The full moon shines down and illuminates the sign of Brimborn Steel Works. The mill seems to tower over him, bigger than it seemed the last night Billy was there, and it’s menacing presence feels like something out of a horror movie. 

Billy’s hand shakes as he slams the car door shut and steps out. The sane part of his mind is screaming at him to turn back and get behind the wheel or simply run. Run run run run run back to safety. 

But the sane part is not the one in control right now. No, this is the part of Billy that values his newfound family more than his own life. 

And he’s not going to let anything take them. 

Billy Hargrove has fought death before, and won. 

So he tries to ignore the way the air seems to get thinner the closer he gets to the steps leading down into the basement, tries not to breathe through his nose to avoid the smell of rot and decay. 

Briefly, he wonders if anyone ever cleaned the blood of the rats from the floor. 

Then his foot lands on the first step, and his breaths start wheezing out of him. Down, down, down into the darkness he goes. His muscles feels like they’re going to give up on him any second now. 

He’s never been so afraid in his whole life. 

There are no lights, and no windows, in the basement, so he really shouldn’t be able to see them as clearly as he does. 

The Mindflayer’s Army. All the innocent people it made Billy bring it, and those it took by itself. 

It’s like they’ve each got their personal light, their skin glowing, and illuminating them so Billy can look into each of their faces.

They’ve formed a half circle, and Billy forces himself to step deeper into the room, so he ends up standing in the middle of the would’ve been circle. 

Heather’s at the front, big eyes boring into him. Every time one of the ghosts shifts, he shudders at the sound the nails of their prolonged fingers make as the scrape against the floor. 

He’s back where it all began for him, and doesn’t know what will happen next. 

He hears the sound of heels clicking against marble, but it’s coming from behind him and Billy doesn’t dare turn around to look. 

“Pretty fucking fag...” the man from the cornfield whispers, his voice coming right next to Billy’s ear, but it isn’t accompanied by the soft feeling of exhales hitting his skin. It’s just there. 

Then, a tongue starts licking down the right side of his neck, sucking for a second, and had he been anywhere else he’d have turned around and punched the man in the face. Now, he barely dares breathe. 

A clawed hand, thin, delicate, comes to rest at the other side of his neck, and Billy waits for it to squeeze. It doesn’t, it moves lower, one pointy fingernail landing above his heart. Billy dares glance down at it, and sees the finger’s got an extra knuckle. It’s morbid. Billy glances away, quickly, his eyes landing on Heather again. 

He hears a soft laugh in his ear, one he vaguely recognises, and feels the nail slice through his shirt and skin, making him hiss. 

It’s not deep, but it’s right above his heart. Billy’s not stupid. 

He feels the man’s hand land in his hair, fist in it, and use it to pull Billy’s head back, as the sound of the stilettos comes back. 

A woman wanders around from Billy’s left side and drags her morbid finger over his mouth. It’s clammy, almost moist. Billy feels nauseous. 

The woman is one of all the mother’s Billy spent time flirting with this past June, one of the more forward ones. Who pushed him against the wall in the supply closet of the pool and squeezed him through his swim trunks, once, before forcing him down with a hand in his hair. 

“ _ Billy! _ ” The sound of Steve’s voice is so out of place in the stillness of the room that it makes Billy turn. The man steps to the side with a grin, but Billy can feel the rest of the ghosts growing restless. Steve’s disturbed the quiet. 

But as he turns to look, he sees it isn’t just Steve. It’s the whole party, the kids dressed in their Halloween costumes and El clutching a piece of black fabric in hand. Hopper’s got a hand on his gun, his eyes moving from ghost to ghost like he can’t really believe what he’s seeing.

Nancy’s staring at the man who just stepped away from Billy like she’d want to murder him if he wasn’t already dead. Jonathan’s eyes seem to echo the statement. 

Then Billy’s being ripped back around by a hand in his hair. He comes face to face with the woman again. He doesn’t even know her name. 

She knows his, though. She raises a finger to hold it underneath his chin, and leans closer to whisper to him. “Touch me, William.” 

Billy feels like he’s in a trance. He’s about to reach forward, moves practiced, when he feels a hand, a real, warm, human hand, grip his tightly and pull him back. The woman growls, but Billy’s already turned around. 

Steve’s pulling him with him, up the stairs after the others, and Billy feels like he’s close to slipping. 

He can hear the ghosts following, the  _ click-clank _ and dull thuds of their hands as they drag against the steps. 

“The door’s locked!” Hopper shouts from up ahead, and Billy hears the telltale sound of a body throwing itself against a metal door in hopes of forcing it open. He already knows it’s no use. 

Flashes of the images he’d seen before hit him, and he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling Steve wrap him up in his arms and press him against his chest.

“You have to concentrate, Billy,” Steve murmurs against the crown of his head. “Please, love. They’re coming.” 

A smaller hand grips his. “You’re the one in control, Billy.” El. “Not them. You. Banish them. Send them back into the Void.” 

And standing there in Steve’s embrace, El’s hand still in his and Steve’s heart beating a steady rhythm against his ear, Billy feels like he can breathe again. 

He closes his eyes, and breathes deeply. 

And he’s back in the dark. 

But he’s not running, not this time. He’s standing still, the water rippling gently in tune with the minimal movement created by his breaths. There are no whispers, no splashing around him from cold feet. He knows he isn’t alone, knows there are billions of souls around him, but they’re far away, just out of reach. He doesn’t want to reach them, though. He’s happy leaving them undisturbed. 

He thinks about Steve telling him he was punishing himself, and Robin telling him how arrogant he was being, and realises that by punishing himself, he’s essentially punishing everyone around him as well. 

He thinks about Heather, about her doe eyes and compassion and laughter, and realises that while she doesn’t deserve to be forgotten, she doesn’t deserve to be remembered like this, either. 

It takes tremendous effort, and it feels like his head will split open, but eventually, he hears soft little splashes echoing around him, not close enough to touch but there, one after another, the sound of something landing in the water, and then the sound of cheering and relieved laughter filters in, and Billy opens his eyes. 

El’s no longer holding his hand, and his vision’s spotty. 

“You did it, fuck Billy, you did it, you did it, love...” Steve’s repeating softly. 

Billy’s legs go out from beneath him. Steve lowers them to the floor, hugs him tighter. 

He’s got a splintering headache, and he knows he has lots to talk about with El, but they’re safe. They’re safe. 

Something wet and warm trails down from his nose and starts to pool above his upper lip, and Billy lifts a hand up to touch it. 

It comes away red.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos if you liked it! Or if I did manage to scare or at least unnerve you! 
> 
> I was really unsure about the rating, so please let me know if you think I should change it to higher. 
> 
> I’m going to babble a little here, just a bunch of shit I thought about while writing, and then there’ll be the Trigger Warning List.
> 
> I write this shit on my phone, and I have to say that I think the most horrifying thing here is that sometimes I wrote “dad” so quickly it turned into “dada”. It makes me vaguely nauseous to imagine Neil being referred to as “dada”. 
> 
> Shit, I really wanted to write “Bold of you to assume I don’t already own rings with skulls.” 
> 
> I usually do some amount of research before I write any medical shit, but I’m going to have to say that there was not much of any research done for this piece, in particular in regards to the endotracheal intubation. I just included that for the reason of wanting Billy to be confused and panicking. I have no clue if they’d actually use one of those in Billy’s situation. But hey, I have ghosts and shit in this one, and canon has monsters from other dimensions, so I feel like I can ask you lot to suspend your feelings of disbelief for a little bit more. 
> 
> When it comes to Murray and Alexei, I envision their relationship to be very chaotic, although also full of love. 
> 
> Found out Murray’s name is Scottish, so that’s why they’re named like that.   
> Murray’s mum and twin are mediums.  
> Don’t question me.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING LIST WITH SPOILERS!!!
> 
> \- References to Billy having barely consensual sex/relations with middle aged women.  
> \- Child abuse.   
> \- One of the ghosts is a little kid, a boy who talks about wanting his parents, them crying, and that he doubts he’d be able to fit in his own casket (because after the Mindflayer I doubt they had separate bodies to bury)   
> \- Billy sees the legs of a corpse hanging from a dress in Max’s closet.   
> \- The boys prank Billy and Steve by repeatedly pulling down the door handle.  
> \- Billy has panic attacks and there are several references to Billy not being able to breathe, or almost drowning.   
> \- Billy is chocked by a ghost  
> \- Billy receives sexual threats from ghosts  
> \- The F-slur is used... twice? I think  
> \- Billy jumps out of a moving car.  
> \- There’s a pie made out of rats. (I don’t know if that fits here, but better safe than sorry).  
> \- Reference to an unnamed man’s daughter driving drunk and dying.


End file.
